Silver Dew (11 page)

I raised my eyebrows at Sebastian. “Going to take a nap?”

“No, but I thought I’d watch you sleep for a while and get some rest vicariously.”

“Ha-ha.” My sarcasm was ruined by a rather large and long yawn. “I’m just going to rest my eyes,” I warned. “You better not let me fall asleep.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I could hear the amusement in Sebastian’s voice but could only guess at his smirk as my eyes were already closed. I was rapidly being lulled to sleep by the bus engine’s steady hum and Sebastian’s nearby warmth.

I really must have been exhausted for I slept deeply for most of the day, missing lunch and supper. It wasn’t until the sun had traveled across the vast blue sky that I began to stir and even then, I might not have awakened at all if it weren’t for Sebastian’s sudden loud moans.

“No… no! I didn’t really want… no!” he half-cried, half-yelled, jolting me awake.

I sat up straight, looking around in confusion, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I was confused to see many shocked and curious faces peering over the neighboring seats at me, or rather - at Sebastian. My thoughts were thick and groggy from sleep and it took me a minute to make sense of the situation.

“Sebastian, wake up,” I urged, shaking him gently as I spoke.

“No… please…not her!” he moaned even louder, his head tossing feebly.

I shook him harder, worried for what he might call out next. “Wake up!” I insisted, my voice sharp and demanding, a familiar echo of my mother’s. I squeezed my amber pendant so tightly in my hand it hurt, focusing all of my strength and will through it. I lowered my voice and spoke slowly and forcefully, in sudden cool control of the situation. “I want you to wake up – now!”

Sebastian’s eyes flew open.

I was about to sigh in relief but my breath caught in my chest as I saw his panicked expression.

“What’s happening? Where are we?” he demanded in a loud, fearful voice. He started to half-rise out of his seat.

I grabbed his hand and yanked him back down as hard as I could.

“Sebastian, shush! Calm down.”

His wide eyes momentarily focused on my face as I spoke, the mysterious depths swirling with confusion.

“Caoilinn? I don’t understand - what’s going on?” He winced in pain as he spoke, his fingers flying to his temples to press against them.

“Everything okay there, miss?” the bus driver called out. I met his concerned eyes in the mirror over his seat and tried to smile reassuringly.

“We’re fine, thanks,” I politely responded, throwing him my most charming smile. It didn’t work as well as it once had. The driver frowned, still looking concerned and a little suspicious. A lot of eyes were still turned our way.

“Sebastian?” I spoke his name softly, gently placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t answer, didn’t move, he just continued to clutch at his head in pain. “Seamus?” I repeated, feeling the beginnings of my own panic setting in as a thin trickle of blood ran from his nose and dripped from his upper lip. I grabbed the corner of our blanket and gently touched it to his skin to wipe the blood away. His head snapped up at my touch, his eyes wide once more as he flinched away from me.

“The Others – they’re so close. I can sense them! We’ve got to run, Caoilinn! We have to run! They’re going to kill us!” Sebastian began yelling, standing up as he spoke and tugging forcefully on my arms.

Another trickle of blood ran from his other nostril. At almost the same time he abruptly let go of my arms and dropped to his knees in pain, curling up on his side in the middle of the aisle and clutching at his head again.

Two men rushed to help but everyone else remained seated, eyeing Sebastian and me warily. The bus immediately pulled over, the driver angrily turning around.

“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded.

“They look like junkies,” someone further back in the bus called out.

“Yeah, I think he might just be tripping out,” one of the men who’d come to help Sebastian suggested, glancing at me apologetically as he spoke. The other man looked disgusted and threw his hands up in the air.

“Goddamn coke fiends! They must have been snorting the stuff in the bathroom. Look at that kid’s nose.” The man nudged Sebastian with his shoe as he spoke, causing him to moan and his eyelids to flutter. His grip on his head did seem to be loosening a bit though and his nose had definitely stopped bleeding.

“We’re not drug addicts!” I was completely shocked by the accusation. I’d never done a single drug in my life – I hadn’t even taken Tylenol with codeine when my wisdom teeth were removed!

“Sure you’re not,” the bus driver agreed dryly. All three men shook their heads at us. Sebastian moaned on the floor, his head beginning to toss again and his eyelashes fluttering more regularly. “I thought it was strange you two didn’t sleep last night but now I guess I know why. Grab your stuff and get off my bus,” the driver challenged, glaring at me. “You can file a complaint with head office if you don’t like it but you’re not riding with us any further! I should call the cops and have ‘em pick you up.”

A few people near the back of the bus clapped. I was too shocked to speak. The Others were nearly upon us, our only hope was to get to Toronto before them and now we were getting thrown off the only bus that would take us there… what were we going to do?

Chapter Five – Reunion

“Gracelynn?” Sebastian’s voice weakly asked. His eyes were open now and he gazed up at me from the floor. His confusion was clear but it was the kind of confusion you’d expect from someone who had awoken to that scene.

“Help him up and get ‘em off,” the bus driver instructed the two men standing beside me. They both nodded their agreement and reached down to roughly pull Sebastian up by his arms.

I could sense this was an argument that we weren’t about to win, even with Sebastian’s power of persuasion. These men absolutely did not want us on the bus – there would be no convincing them to let us stay.

I reached under our seats and pulled out our bags, stuffing our old blanket into the top of Sebastian’s with the bag of leftover food we’d bought at the gas station.

“Are you okay?” I asked Sebastian, noticing how he seemed to need the men’s support to stand.

He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “I’ll be fine.”

“Come on then, we’re getting off the bus,” I told him in a low voice that made my displeasure very clear. For some reason, the men holding onto Sebastian’s arms suddenly released him and began moving back towards their seats, refusing to meet my eye.

Sebastian calmly accepted the situation in a way that only he ever could. He paused and took in my expression, nodding slowly as if he understood. He then took his bag from me and gestured for me to go first. The bus was silent, all eyes on us as we exited.

We were deposited on the side of a fairly busy street on what appeared to be the outskirts of Toronto. For a minute we stood there, dazed and overwhelmed by the sudden noise and heat of the day, and the abrupt change in our situation. Sebastian recovered first, grabbing my arm and pulling me along the sidewalk.

“We have to keep moving – the fifth is here and the Others are on their way. They’ll be here by morning,” Sebastian warned, slipping his arms through the straps of his backpack as he spoke.

“I know.”

Sebastian lifted a questioning brow at me. I pulled my pack on and began marching down the sidewalk beside him.

“We both fell asleep and we shouldn’t have. The Others must have wanted us to get thrown off the bus to stop us from reaching Toronto. The driver thought you were high on cocaine because of your nosebleed and the way you… well, you sort of freaked out. He said he was going to call the police,” I added.

Sebastian used his black t-shirt to wipe the blood from his upper lip and nose, barely pausing in his stride as he did so. His expression was hard to read. I thought he might be angry.

“This way,” he instructed, taking the next right turn and getting us off the main road where we’d been dropped off. “We need to find a map or a phone book - or something, and figure out where we are and how far it is to your father’s house from here. If we can hitch a ride, we still might make it in time…”

It was our only hope and it wasn’t much of one. There were too many “if’s” to this plan. It all depended on if we could make it to my father’s tonight. And if he agreed to help us. And if he could get us out of the city tomorrow. And if we could stay out of the Others’ clutches until then. If, if, if, if. It was the only plan we had though.

We criss-crossed up and down the streets, always on the lookout for someone chasing us and for a sign of where we were and how far it was to where we needed to be.

We eventually confirmed that we were in fact on the outskirts of Toronto. We decided the best course of action would be to find a phone book and look up my father’s address, then try to either ride a city bus or catch a cab there. It took us nearly half an hour to find a phone booth – precious time that we didn’t have but every time we tried to ask in a store for a phone book we were denied. It was a frustrating and frightening setback; another obvious indication of the Others’ proximity.

I leafed through the thick, worn out phone book in the booth we had stopped at, trying to ignore the stains on the pages and the stickiness to the cover. It was a relief to find my father’s name and address fairly easily – I hadn’t been certain that he’d have his number listed. There was even a map of the different areas in Toronto in the front of the phone book, but when we eventually found my father’s address on the map, all of our hopes came crashing down.

“He lives on the other side of the city,” I quietly announced. My father and his new wife Dahlia, lived at least fifty kilometers away.

I looked to Sebastian for hope. His face was pale and drawn, faint purplish bags shadowed his large, hollow eyes. “Let’s try and catch a bus,” he said as he took my hand and led me away. There was no hope in his voice though, only despair and defeat.

We walked slowly after that, our feet dragging with each step as the sun began to set. A few blocks away we found a bus shelter and we sat down together on the bench. I felt like curling up in Sebastian’s arms and falling asleep for the rest of my life. It would have been the perfect escape. Sebastian pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his backpack that he must have bought earlier at the gas station. I didn’t bother to comment or complain as he lit a cigarette and began quietly smoking, blowing perfectly shaped rings out that knotted together into complicated Celtic knots in the warm night arm. I rested my head on his shoulder despite the occasional trail of cigarette smoke that wafted my way. We watched the traffic whiz by and wanted a bus to come with every fiber of our beings. We waited, and waited.

When I first saw the bus’ bright lights coming down the street towards us in the hazy twilight, I thought I might be dreaming. Neither of us dared speak our hope out loud as the bus approached and slowed. Sebastian butted out his cigarette and we stood up together, clasping one another’s hands tightly as the bus came to a stop and opened its doors. Hope rose in my chest like a ray of light breaking through a stormy sky.

We had to first wait for the passengers to disembark before we could move forward. All my hopes were destroyed as the driver began shaking his head at us.

“Sorry kids. This is my last stop for the night, I’m off-duty now,” the dark-skinned man apologized in a friendly-enough tone. My throat tightened up from frustration and fear. I felt like the world was falling apart around me as I realized, this could very well be the end.

“Please, sir. I have to get to my father’s house tonight. I
want
to see him. We have to,” I desperately begged, trying to keep my voice from quivering.

The man looked confused, his dark brows pulling down over his eyes. “Sorry, there sweetheart but you’ll have to find another way to your dad’s place. I’d love to help you out but there’s nothing I can do for you – I’m off duty. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian answered politely as the driver slowly closed the doors before us and began to pull away. Sebastian turned his back on the bus and held his arms out to me. I threw myself against his chest, giving in to the panicked despair that threatened to overwhelm me. In the fading light, with my exhausted, bleary eyes I almost missed the sign on the back of the bus. As luck would have it, a driver not wanting to yield angrily honked his horn, catching my attention. The car’s headlights lit up the back of the bus that it nearly rear-ended. The sign was perfectly highlighted for me, the car’s headlights focused straight onto a photograph of my father. I gasped out loud.

“Sebastian, look!” I cried as I pushed away from him, pointing towards the now retreating bus. Sebastian twisted around just as the car lurched around the bus, obscuring the advertisement on the rear from view.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asked in confusion, squinting after the bus.

“I can’t believe it!” I exclaimed excitedly. “There was an advertisement for a law firm – my
father’s
law firm.
Stevenson Justice
‘a local lawyer fighting for local rights’,” I quoted. Sebastian didn’t seem to understand, his expression still doubtful and defeated. “Sebastian, my father always works late – always. If his office is nearby…”